Only Ashes
by UnloveTrack
Summary: Aurora is the product of a Narnian romance between a Phoenix and a lady of Cair Paravel. Aslan has sent Aurora to England with the intention of Aurora aiding the Pevensie's in the defeat of the White Witch with a gift inherited from her father. Peter/OC
1. Prologue

_Some say the world will end in fire,  
__Some say in ice.  
__From what I've tasted of desire  
__I hold with those who favor fire.  
__But if it had to perish twice,  
__I think I know enough of hate  
__To know that for destruction ice  
__Is also great  
__And would suffice._  
**- Robert Frost**

* * *

Fire consumes all that it can, flames jump from one tree to another in an unstoppable blaze. It shows no mercy or reluctance to burn, not even oxygen is safe for it feeds upon that too. The flames lick and caress things almost lovingly before ravishing and destroying it, the crackling of flames sound sinister and almost welcoming. The jumping sparks are controlled only by how far the wind is willing to take it.

Only ashes remain in the wake of dancing flames. Fire can bring down even the most regal of buildings without any effort, feeding and consuming until nothing is left to burn. It does not spare the innocence of a child, it does not show compassion for beloved family members. It does not slow for those that are ripe with age and not as agile as they used to be. It does not wait to begin to burn the memories contained in photographs, it does not hesitate to catch the hem of a wedding dress.

It is always wanting and always taking and leaving devastation in its wake. Skin blisters under direct contact and nerves scream with protest against the sudden heat. Food becomes charred and blackened when left alone with the devilish heat for too long. What does fire give before it decides to take? It gives warmth, heats the coldest of people. It gives light and guidance in the darkness. For many fire is considered to be friend, not foe, when it is guiding them down the passages of their home in the dark of night. It is considered as welcomed as a lovers touch after a cold walk through the snow when they discard their dampened clothes and take up a seat next to the fire place.

And it deceives all with the warm and happy colors, it perfects the facade of a friendly force of life. Flickering oranges, yellows and reds dancing and twirling hypnotically, glowing like the golden eyes of the most majestic lion, Aslan. The dancing flames are hardly ever in harmony with anything, not the shooting sparks nor the wood or the ash flowing to the bottom of the pit. It certainly does not harmonize with any tales told around a camp fire, nor does it make a good sound track for sing a longs. Did no one listen to the threatening cackle of the cracking wood?

When does fire decide to turn its back on its friends? When does it become that gluttonous devil that destroys everything it can touch? How does man remain in control of a thoughtless monster? Always keep water on hand, for if fire had one enemy it is the cold dampness of ice and water. When skin begins to blister from heat, cold water is run over the area to stop the scorching pain and to numb the fried nerves.

The greatest fires are the most destructive, taking out entire towns before anyone can put a stop to it. In 1666 a fire started in a London bakery and escalated to destroy much of London, the fire burned for three entire days consuming 13, 200 houses and 87 parish churches. It destroyed the homes of 70, 000 of the City's 80, 0000 population. The devastating fire of 1727 started in Burwell, Cambridge in England, not hesitating or feeling any remorse for the death of seventy-eight people during a barn fire in the midst of a puppet show. No, the fire is unthinking and unfeeling and did not hesitate to engulf the barn and take the lives of fifty-one innocent children. It fed on the fear soaked air around them, and then it lashed out to embrace them violently.

Fires have engulfed the white house, churches and palaces not caring about the class of citizens or the importance of monuments or even thinking twice about the destruction of a place of worship. Buildings are but fire wood, and nothing more. Fire does not care to attend church, to worship. It does not care to bow down to royalty or heed to the President. The most famous fires aren't even the ones that took place in the most famous and prestigious structures.

The most heard of fire is the one that consumed much of Chicago in 1871, killing hundreds of people. The blaze lasted for two days, not running out of fuel. The fire hindered those trying to fight it by destroying their water connection and leaving the town helpless. No one knows how this fire was started, just the deadly affect it had, consuming and destroying, cracking and flourishing in a disastrous dance.

All that were left of these fires were the light gray dusting of ash. Memories, homes, lives became only ashes. Even money is susceptible to the burning ache of an out of control fire. People are fools to think that they have any control over the blaze. They are better off to remember that those who play with fire will eventually get burned. Fire indeed will one day consume all that they had held dear, if they are not careful.

For fire had consumed the life of Aurora James, and she had to remember that fact every day of her life. She had to live with the scars that presented her with the reminder that fire is unkind to those arrogant enough to think that they can control it. The best Aurora James could do for anyone was try to guide it, though she felt she was better off letting the flames guide her. Fire had done an array of things for people, this was true, but Aurora will always remember what the fire has taken from her.

The fire not only consumed her life but the life of her mother, Moira James, too. The fire was not so forgiving toward Moira, and at age eleven Aurora had been faced with the reality of how dangerous fire could be and the guilt that comes with being a catalyst of sorts.

Now all that Aurora had to remember her mother by was the taunting dance of flickering flames and a bed time story that had been committed to memory, as it should. For soon this bed time story she had fancied as a child would become a most important guide to a world outside of Aurora's own. It would be the only way to answer the questions that had been raised after the death of her mother.

"Why did this happen? What did I do? Why am I like this? When will the pain stop? What happened that night? Who is my father? What do these dreams mean? How can things get better from here? Am I to blame?"

Aurora would get her answers and in the process she would be burned and like the first time it will not only be her that is subjected to the punishing licks of flames.

* * *

**Rewrite, because cold medication and trying to write an introduction to a story NEVER GO TOGETHER.**


	2. Stories That Must Be Retold

The two most pertinent memories Aurora had of Moira James both could be linked back to fire in some way. It was the constantly recurring theme floating around Aurora's existence. She was told she was passionate and that somehow transpired into being called a fiery spirit. It all came back to her quick temper and how much of herself Aurora devoted to what she was attempting to do. Whether it was school work or a game, Aurora was constantly in it 110%. Of course having that much dedication often left her feeling quite burnt out.

Moira James had led her daughter to believe that she and Professor Kirke had been close friends for ages. When Aurora would ask Digory about her mother, he would act quite oddly and avoid her question completely and just tell Aurora that she looked a great deal like her mother. It was comforting to hear, even if it wasn't the kind of comfort Aurora had been seeking, because Aurora had rapidly began forgetting what her mother looked like and how her voice sounded when she told bed time stories.

It was also quite a compliment to be told that she looked like her mother. Her mother had been a beautiful woman, even if Aurora couldn't remember her face clearly, that she knew for sure. Men often followed her down the street with their eyes. She wasn't particularly beautiful, nothing like a model or actress, but she was different and that somehow made her alluring. Often plain girls from other places in the world can go somewhere and have all eyes on them because they're exotic and new. That's the kind of attraction Aurora's mother had, the kind she had inherited. It was an unearthly kind of beautiful that only came from being from a place so unknown that the mystery enraptured any who dare take a glance at her.

Nightmares that held the quality of truth and memories to them often drove Aurora to the mirror to examine her appearance. The dreams always reminded her how fast she was forgetting the details of her mother. Each time she tried to remember the fire she found the details were becoming more blurred. It started off in a nightmare in a nightmare, Aurora remembered that clearly. There was the suffocating feeling of being afraid that came with having a nightmare. She no longer knew what horrors her subconscious had created, only that when her eyes bolted open she was staring into her mother's terrified eyes. Then the flames jumped into her line of sight, the suffocating feeling was from the smoke and the heat was causing beads of sweat to form on Aurora's brow.

The details got foggy after that, she remembered her mother getting her out of the house by breaking open a window. Aurora screamed as her eyes caught sight of the sleeves on her nightgown, they were alight with flames, burning away at the fabric and still continuing on to eat at Aurora's skin. She fell to the cement and rolled, like her mother had told her to do. She expected Moira to be there when she got the flames out or for her to arrived and help extinguish the fire. It never happened; Moira never came out of that building.

When the fire was extinguished, firefighters discovered that Aurora's mother had been pinned to the floor by a fallen support beam. Of course, by then Aurora hadn't been on the scene. The daughter of Moira James just seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. Rumour has it that she died in the fire, though a body had never been recovered from the wreckage. Where else could a little girl have gone to? She had no other family that anyone knew of, she hadn't sought salvation anywhere. The simplest explanation (which was usually the correct one) was that she perished. In this case, this theory was incorrect. Aurora James was very much alive and thriving in the country with her mother's old friend Professor Kirke.

Whenever things were bad or something weird happened, Aurora's mother took her to the country where Professor Kirke lived. Moira had forced Aurora to memorize the Professor's phone number and so when Aurora had ended up at the train station she had told the man at the counter that she needed to go to the Professor's house. Of course when a young child says they need to go to someone the person they are asking will usually ask where their parents are. When Aurora had told the person at the ticket counter that her mother was involved in a fire, the man asked her for the phone number of someone that could help her.

She gave him Professor Kirke's phone number and within the hour was on a train to the Professor's home.

Aurora's second most prominent memory of her mother didn't have much to do with her mother at all. Ingrained into her memory was a unique bedtime story that no other child was told. Aurora could remember it word for word and how Moira's voice sounded at certain parts. Her voice was wistful, somber and a kind of sad that Aurora could never understand.

The story starts off in a land of make believe (for this is what Aurora had always believed the story to be, make believe) called Narnia. In this land lived a beautiful woman of noble descent. The description of this woman always sounded like Moira, though Aurora never realized that until she was older. Moira, like the lady in the story, had beautiful white skin and light blue eyes with beautiful wavy brown hair, a dainty figure that danced through the forests barefoot and had a singing voice sweeter than the sweetest tasting candy.

This maiden of a land inhabited by sons of Adam and daughters of Eve was well loved and had many admirers, none of which seemed to be able to hold her affections. She would rather run through open fields than listen to men dribble on about politics even though it was a privilege to be in such a high class and have regular meals with the king. The lady, who never was given a name other than lady or girl in the bed time story, loved to read in the forest and it worried her father. For he wished his daughter to find a suitable noble to enter courtship with and spending her time reading in the forest was not helping her achieve anything close to that.

In the forest there was peace in the noises animals made, and sometimes the lady conversed with the talking animals or fauns and sometimes if she were really lucky a centaur or a dwarf. They were all friendly creatures and pleasant to meet, but there was one creature that the lady had never spoken to but this creature knew the lady well for he observed her every time she entered in the forest. It was the most unlikely of creatures, a phoenix, and the most gorgeous creature the lady had ever seen. Its plumage shimmered in the lights, it was undeniably the most handsome bird and it watched her in silence. This phoenix fell in love with the lady and knew it could never be for he could not find the courage to talk to her and he knew the love could never progress. He was a phoenix and she was a human, it was impossible.

But love brings people to do the impossible. There was a legend of a white stag and if it were caught it would grant you three wishes. The phoenix sought this Stag for weeks upon weeks, flying through the woods and coming upon many creatures but not the legendary white stag. His spirits were not dampened because he knew that their love was meant to be. He had never spoken to the lady but he had seen her admire him whenever he was brave enough to show himself and he had heard her speaking to all the creatures and knew she was kind.

He had great faith in his love and so his motivation and determination never dwindled, he never slowed and eventually his persistence paid off. On the fourth week of his search he found the stag tearing through the woods and he landed upon its back easily, the stag froze and craned its neck to peer down at the fiery bird.

"You are the white stag they speak of, the one that grants wishes, correct?" The bird asked in his prideful and noble speech.

"Yes, and I assume that you have come to collect. I will give you three wishes if you turn me loose, choose them carefully for sometimes wishes are more than we bargained for." Replied the white stag warily.

"I wish to be transformed into a son of Adam," said the phoenix without pause.

"So it shall be done." And suddenly the phoenix was no more, and a man sat bereft of any clothing on the back of the stag, with fiery red hair that was shiny and vibrant as the former birds plumage had been. The phoenix inspected his ten fingers and his ten toes, and his tanned skin, he wanted to move to the nearest stream to see his face, but he didn't want the stag to leave without granting him his other two wishes.

"My second wish is that of a set of appropriate clothing one might wear when addressing a lady on matters of the heart." Spoke the phoenix proudly, for now he was quite excited to speak with the lady he was irrevocably in love with.

"So it shall be done." The stag replied, and hanging from the nearest tree were a set of fine garments, breeches of the finest material money could buy and a red tunic along with comfortable under clothes with socks and a pair of shoes. Also there was a belt with a sword sheath and a sword, a traveling cloak, a complete set of clothing for the former bird of flame.

The phoenix did not dress; he did not even dismount the stag.

"My third wish is to have a valiant horse to take me to the maiden I seek in the far corners of this forest." Spoke the phoenix with certainty.

"So it shall be done." And from the trees came a sturdy white horse, bereft of saddle or any other riding materials. The horse was beautiful and the phoenix admired it with open mouth a clear sign that he was awestruck. "Now, our agreement was that you were to turn me loose."

"Why, of course." Replied the phoenix, waking up from his daze, he dismounted the stag and without any warning it took off into the trees with a speed unrivalled by any other horse, centaur or cheetah. The phoenix dressed quickly, watching the valiant horse as it grazed but did not wander from its rider. When Phoenix had dressed he tried to mount his horse, finding it difficult though he had seen the lady mount a horse many times. It took several tries before the phoenix had mounted his horse, and he promptly fell when his horse began to trot.

The phoenix fell many times on his journey to the lady, and had rumpled his clothes and attained various bruises from the rough landings. This did not faze him in the least, he just had to remember the lady dancing in the forest in her bare feet and he got right back up again. It took many days to reach the wood where the lady frequently read, and in those days the phoenix came upon a stream and took in his foreign reflection. He had a tan face, dark eyes that smouldered at him, a sharp nose and a full mouth with straight white teeth and few freckles dotting along his nose.

At last the phoenix arrived to her favourite spot in the woods, deep enough not to be seen and yet not far enough to be seriously dangerous. The phoenix watched her for a moment before attempting a graceful dismount from his steed. Of course he was less than graceful and all but fell on his bottom in front of the lady.

"My good sir, are you alright?" The lady asked, for the man was greatly rumpled from all his falling.

"Yes, my lady, now I am perfectly content." And he introduced himself to her as Phoenix and he told her the truth of who he was and what he went through to be with her. The lady was immensely flattered by his honesty. Phoenix asked her noble father permission to propose and her father said no, and told his daughter that if she married Phoenix she would be no daughter of his. For love they ran away and were wed deep in the Narnian forest. Phoenix built them a small house with the help of fauns, dwarfs and centaurs and they conceived their daughter in that very home.

One day Phoenix was fishing in a nearby stream when he saw something gold reflected on the calm surface. When he looked up it was to see the great lion Aslan staring at him with loving eyes.

"Young fire bird, were you not happy as I made you?" The great lion asked Phoenix and he sounded sad when he asked in his deep magnificent voice.

"No your greatness, I was very happy as a phoenix," answered Phoenix quickly to appease the sad lion.

"Then why did you seek the white stag to change your form?" Asked Aslan, he sounded not angry but curious and Phoenix had the distinct idea that he already knew the answer.

"Because I fell in love with a lady of the court," answered the Phoenix without shame.

"And together you had a daughter, a daughter of Eve. Phoenix, the wish of the white stag is wearing off and in three days time you will be as you were and no longer able to rise from your ashes." Aslan informed Phoenix with sad eyes full of sympathy.

"Why? I do not understand why this is happening?" Phoenix asked, his eyes shining with tears. He could not fathom the idea of not being able to hold his love, to not be able to kiss her and to die and not be reborn. He wept at the idea of not seeing his daughter grow up.

"The white stag was generous with your time as a Son of Adam. You did not say you wanted to be a Son of Adam for the rest of your life and so the white stag gave you a year with your lady." Aslan told him, eyes still shining with sympathy.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Phoenix asked in desperation.

"Nay, my son, I cannot alter the path you have chosen but I can promise you that when your flame burns out for the last time I will comfort your wife and daughter. They may no longer reside in Narnia when you are gone, for your daughter is extraordinarily gifted and will be needed a long time from now to help defend Narnia from approaching evil. Your wife may never return to Narnia, but your daughter will return to save this world. Be proud, father of the fire child." Aslan's words comforted Phoenix greatly.

"Thank you, your highness." Phoenix said with perfect sincerity. "But what shall I tell my wife when I return home?"

"Tell her nothing yet, when the sun is about to set for the third time, tell her that you will become as you were but not to fear. Tell her to have faith and everything will be alright." Aslan instructed, and Phoenix knew that everything really would be alright. Phoenix looked to the stream before looking back up to Aslan only to see that the greatest lion of all time had gone already.

Each day Phoenix spent with his family was treasured and the night of the third sunset he told his wife of the change to come and he told her with complete confidence that everything would be alright. When his wife inquired as to how he knew that he said that the great lion Aslan told him so and that she would be better off to have faith. One of the reasons Phoenix loved his lady was because of her faith in all people and creatures alike. The next afternoon at the exact time that Phoenix had fallen off of his horse in front of his lady, he was aflame once more. Not too long after that Phoenix found himself in terrible health and knew his last pile of ash was upon him. He had been eager, for it was torture being so close to his family and only being able to watch and talk and not be able to feel their soft skin, to not be able to hold his daughter when she cried.

Not even an hour had passed after Phoenix had become ash did Aslan walk out of the forest and sat in front of Phoenix's wife as she mourned over the pile of ashes with her daughter clutched to her breast.

"Child, do not weep for Phoenix is in a better place and will be waiting for your arrival. He loved you dearly and would not want your face marred by tears; dear one I need you to be valiant for me. You need to be strong for your daughter, she needs you now. Your daughter is extraordinarily gifted, though her talents will not emerge for years to come. She is important to the survival of Narnia, but that is still a long time coming. Your love for Phoenix and his kin will be your strength and your greatest gift to your daughter. Daughter of Eve, I will come for you in three days time and you and your flesh and blood will leave Narnia. Child you will never return, but your daughter will come and complete a trying task for the defence of this world from great evil. Will you do everything in your power to protect your young one?" Aslan asked of the lady. She stared up at him with tears drying on her cheeks and pools of water in her eyes and Aslan looked back at her with sympathy and breathed on her, giving her a renewed sense of strength.

"Of course, Aslan, but I do not understand. What is my daughter to Narnia?"

"She is its greatest defence. Dear one, you and Phoenix have made something out of love that has never existed before and out of this love comes great strength. I will have more news for you in three days, but I must take my leave now to make the preparations." Aslan said solemnly, standing at his great height and licking the face of Phoenix's wife.

The lady waited for three days sitting in the window of her home, she was unable to sleep and she often found herself holding Phoenix's old tunics to her face and inhaling his warm scent. Aslan meanwhile spoke to an old friend in the realm of dreams; this friend had been there for the birth of Narnia and had a very big debt to Aslan, to explain what he needed of him. In three days Aslan appeared out of the forest and stood outside of the lady's home. She gathered her child into her arms and rushed outside to meet the great lion.

"Come, we must now take our leave. It will be faster if you ride on my back; I will go slow for the sake of your child and explain as we ride." Aslan lowered himself to the ground and allowed the lady to climb onto his back with her child in her arms. "Squeeze my sides with your knees as you would a horse." Aslan instructed, and the lady complied.

"Aslan, what is happening?" The lady asked as they took off at a quick walk. She clutched her sleeping daughter to her closely.

"You are taking leave of Narnia and entering a new world. I have secured you a place to stay for the time being until you adjust to all the changes. Professor Kirke is a fair man, when you find yourself in trouble you can always go to him for anything. For troubled times are soon to be pressed upon you and it is very important that your daughter learn to control her gift. I will be there to guide you, dear one. Though in this world I go by a different name, I will always be with you and your daughter." The lady felt no need to speak after that, she felt calm and assured.

Aslan sped past trees, streams and rocks with a grace that no other creature possessed. He was strong and magnificent as he traveled, the lady watched as everything blurred by. Nothing caught her interest until the lantern; it stood out amongst the trees and in Narnia as a whole. The lady had seen nothing like it before, it was here that Aslan stopped and moved lower to the ground.

"We have nearly arrived." He announced, and the lady climbed off of the great lion and stood facing him as he lay on the ground in front of her and stared at her with troubled eyes.

"Oh Aslan, what is it? What is this place?" The lady asked, worry coloring her tone.

"This place is called Lantern Waste and was not of my creation. I have to ask of you many things, you have already agreed to protect your child. Would you protect her with your very life?" Aslan asked, searching the lady's eyes for sincerity.

"Of course," she agreed. Aslan's eyes darkened because it seemed as though she were unaware to how serious the matter was.

"It may not seem it now, dear one, but protecting your child could prove to be a more dangerous task than you realize." He informed.

"I love my daughter with everything in me, I would rather die than see any harm come to her," vowed the lady. Aslan saw only love in her eyes when she spoke.

"I ask of you to tell your daughter of your story, every night before she sleeps." The lady looked into Aslan's golden eyes with confusion.

"What story?"

"Tell her your story, the story of the phoenix that fell in love with a lady of Cair Paravel."

"Oh Aslan, I will," cried the lady. As she threw an arm around the great lion's neck and rubbed her face in his mane while she cried.

"Child, I ask of you three more things," Aslan began when she pulled away from him, "I ask you to let your daughter go when the time comes. To teach her to love with a pure heart and that you may teach her the importance of love in life. For without love, where would the world be?"

"Of course Aslan," the lady stated, bowing her head with respect.

"Now follow me dear one, we are nearly there." The lady followed Aslan until they came upon a very strange sight. It was a kind of cave that the lady had never seen before, hidden behind some trees. The cave was not made of rock and seemed to exist without a mountain, and in it hung the strangest things. They looked like animals without faces, and seemed to hang in thin air.

"What is this place?" The lady asked again, for she had never been to this part of Narnia.

"This is a gateway created from the wood of an apple tree from Narnia connecting our world to the world of Professor Kirke. This is the door in which your daughter will pass through many times. It is where you will go and never return." Suddenly the lady was not so brave.

"I-I'm afraid." She admitted to the great lion. He turned his golden eyes to her and let his warm breath fan her face.

"Be not afraid child, I will be with you." The lady nodded and crouched down, shuffling through the hanging animals with no faces until she came to a wooden structure. She looked behind her for one last glimpse of Narnia and Aslan and saw nothing but a wood backing behind her. Panic rose in her chest, she was trapped; she began to knock on the solid sides and cry out for help.

Immediately a door opened, and light poured into the cave, a hand reached out to help the lady and she was pulled into a spare room in an extraordinary house owned by Professor Kirke. The lady took her first look at England and knew that this was where her child would grow up.

Aurora had believed this story to be nothing but a silly little fairy tale. She had no idea that it was her mother's biography and that she belonged to a whole other world. The realization would come soon, in due time. Aurora felt it in her heart as she sat out on the many acres of land the Professor possessed and watched the strange occurrences in the sky. There looked to be fireworks and shooting stars quite a ways off.

The air raids were commencing and the Pevensie's were in the cross fire.


	3. Dream to Make Believe

Aurora could hear the new guests moving around downstairs and she fought her impulse to go and greet them. The professor had been very clear on how she was to act with the four children. It was as much for their safety as hers that she was to keep quiet and out of sight. She had to keep focused on her studies; there was nothing more important than her excelling in her studies.

She didn't learn the same things that other children did; she had to learn something that was easy for almost everyone. She had to learn control. The truth had come out slowly but surely that there was something wrong with Aurora; something seriously wrong. When Aurora lost her temper or allowed an emotion to overwhelm her unnatural occurrences followed swiftly.

The first time it happened Aurora was six years old and she had been angry; extremely angry. She and her girlfriends had been playing four square at recess when an older boy approached. He was a well known bully named Billy Meyer, a round and obnoxious ten year old. He had dark eyes and light hair and a pink face; he was the biggest kid in the school and wasn't above violence.

After watching the girls play for a moment he stepped into the game and took the ball and held it above his head with a sneer. It was a challenge and it worked; the girls were in an uproar of indignation. They had after all been playing with the ball first and he had no right to take it without asking or anything.

Aurora had stood tall with her head held high. "Give it back, Billy!"

It was a command, no option but to give in.

"I don't think so. Besides what is a little girl like you going to do about it?" Aurora's best friend at the time, Helen Burke, had thought Aurora looked strange then. It was a cold November day but she could feel strangely warm wind caressing her skin. The strangest part was that the day wasn't all that windy and the air seemed to come from Aurora.

But it wasn't the sudden change in temperature that ultimately caused the strangeness to come to mind. It was the dark blue orbs that seemed to brighten and become fierier. They flickered and glowed the slightest but still evident red color. It had more of an orangey hue to it.

Billy's words had not been enough to satiate his hunger for torment and so he reached out to grip the arms of the small girl. The moment his fingers curled around her forearms he howled and released her but not before shoving her unmercifully to the cold concrete ground.

"Billy, what is all the noise about?" Asked the elderly gray haired recess monitor, she was known as the wicked witch among the children. She was constantly scowling at children and the thin line that was her mouth seemed imposing. When she parted her lips it was never a pleasant sound; it was usually only to yell in her wizened voice.

"That girl burned me that Aurora did. Look!" Billy thrust his hands upward to show the angry pink marks on his hands and wicked witch gently took them in her hands to look over.

When she was finished she glared down at Aurora.

"Aurora James and friends come with me; you're going to see the Headmaster." Actually the wicked witch brought Billy to first aid and they doused his hands in water and wrapped them in bandages when parts of his hands started burning. Then Aurora and her friends were brought to the office and told to sit.

One by one they were ushered into the Headmasters lush office for a brief chat. Aurora's friends were quickly dismissed to class when they were finished but Aurora was held back to wait. Moira had been called down to the school to discuss things with the Headmaster but there was nothing to do. No one had seen Aurora with any matches or anything else that could aid her in burning Billy Meyer. They even asked Moira if Aurora had any means of getting such things; Moira didn't smoke and no one Aurora was around unsupervised with smoked either.

They had to drop their case against her but Moira seemed fairly upset by the whole situation. She was taken home right then and there and was told to pack. Then Moira brought Aurora to the train station and they spent a week with the professor. The reasoning for this was not explained until Moira was already dead.

Aurora was some sort of freak although the word the professor had used was special. She had emotional ties to fire and it was important for her to control her emotions. The burns on her arms were a constant reminder that she could not give into fear or anger, even excitement or nervousness was dangerous. Unlike most children Aurora had to hide her emotions and become passive and apathetic about everything.

The professor was encouraging her to control the fire that so readily crackled beneath the surface of her skin but Aurora was terrified. She had now come to accept that she had killed her own mother and marred her own body and she was going to have to live with this for the rest of her life. Some nights she would wish that she would die because as much as the professor was generous he wasn't exactly a parent and Aurora knew not the feeling of being loved. She remembered how her mother had loved her so dearly, but she could not thrive on a memory.

Aurora sighed and began to turn the pages in her book with an expression of longing. She only had Mrs. Macready and the professor for company; unlike the characters in these books who were surrounded by people and love.

She could indulge in sadness all she wanted as long as it never turned to anger. Aurora froze in her mindless flipping of the pages when she heard voices not too far from where she sat in the library. One voice was distinctly a male, the other was distinctly female and yet another that was high and squeaky like a young child. Then Aurora heard the sour voice of another male, who also sounded squeaky.

Aurora jumped up from the overstuffed chair she was perched on and placed the book quietly on the side table. With curiosity controlling her actions she crept to the door and surreptitiously opened the door just wide enough so that she could see the four in the hall.

She didn't eavesdrop, she just observed. The two obviously older children had their backs to the door, the girl had long brown hair and the boy had short blond hair. The two younger children were easier to see as they were facing the older children and Aurora could see their profile. The boy resembled the older girl with dark locks and brown eyes. He was very pale and had his features screwed up in a scowl.

The smallest of the congregation resembled the oldest boy. Her hair was a light dirty blond color and she had bright blue eyes filled with innocence. She was also fair skinned and had a splash of freckles and an endearing smile although it was quite brief before it crumpled into a frown.

"Lucy we have this large house entirely to ourselves. It'll be like an adventure!" The older male was saying presumably to the young female.

"But Peter, I miss mum." She said so sadly that Aurora felt her own sadness double in intensity.

It was then that Lucy turned her eyes on Aurora. She wasted no time in shutting the door on young Lucy and didn't dare breathe as she listened to the muffled voices outside of the door. They were by the stairs, a good three feet away from the library door. If they started approaching Aurora could disappear into the connecting study and then back into the hall. She knew this house like the back of her hand and knew all the best escape routes and secret hiding spots, not that she ever had to use them before.

"Susan, Peter, there was a girl! She was looking at us through a crack in the door." Lucy exclaimed in her high soprano.

"Lucy, don't you think Mrs. Macready would have told us if there was another girl here?"

This voice was level and logical; it sounded nothing short of proper and spoke with a smart eloquence that Aurora envied immediately. This could only be the older girl.

"You probably just imagined it," said the soothing voice of Peter, the oldest boy.

"No, I didn't, she was there! Just go open the door, she'll be there!" Aurora decided now would be a good time to disappear although half of her wanted the children to find her. She wanted to comfort Lucy and tell her that the professor and Mrs. Macready weren't all that bad and that it was fun to ride in the carriage and go on picnics. She would promise to take Lucy swimming down at the small pond and show her where she sometimes saw foxes.

But Aurora couldn't stand the idea of those four children trapped in a burning house because Aurora had a nightmare. She couldn't live with herself if Lucy or Peter or Susan had matching burns on their bodies because Aurora had lost her temper.

The professor had his reasons for keeping Aurora away from his new guests. Although if Aurora had known that her disappearance from the library would cast a shadow of doubt over the honesty and integrity of innocent Lucy, she might have stayed and introduced herself. Then she would have proceeded to avoid the children like they carried an incurable disease.

That evening Mrs. Macready brought dinner to Aurora and professor Kirke before attending to the Pevensie children. The meal was simple and they ate in silence for the most part. This was the only time Aurora really spent with the professor and it was always the same questions.

"So, what did you do with your day?" The professor finally asked between bites of fish.

"I cleaned my room and then I went to the library to read. Professor Kirke, I believe one of the guests has noticed me. I disappeared through the study and then spent the rest of the day in my room practicing meditation."

"Did you try producing fire today?" He asked like this was a normal question to ask at dinner.

"No." The truth was she had never attempted producing fire although the professor assured her it was possible. He would be considered mad if the world knew of what they spoke of. Aurora was truly frightened of trying to produce a fire but had no trouble playing with the flames if a candle were nearby.

"Have you been having those dreams?" Since Aurora had come to live with the professor she had been having strangely calming dreams of greenery and a sky of unnatural blue with a soft yellow sun that rose in the form of a golden lion on the mountain tops. This was where she could practice with her fire without anything catching. This was a place of creation and not destruction; she could not burn anything down if she tried.

Recently the dream has changed; the greenery has become barren branches covered in snow. At first it had appeared beautiful and pure but Aurora's astonishment at the sparkling ice particles had dispersed. With the snow came the absence of the golden light and it was cold. There was not much her fire could do for her and she could feel that this land was not supposed to be this way. It seemed sad; if a place could have feelings.

"Yes, but something has changed." The professor nodded and said no more; Aurora knew this meant that she need not elaborate and so she didn't.

When Aurora was finished with her very late dinner (she was showing the professor how she could manipulate the direction of the flames much to his amusement) Aurora cautiously peaked out into the hall to see if it was clear. It was abandoned and it almost felt like the four children had never come to seek safety from the air raids. She strode down the hall with her head held high and her eyes trained toward the ceiling. Her ears were occupied with her quiet humming.

"I knew you weren't just my imagination!" The voice that was ultimately addressing Aurora was high in pitch and she knew that she had been caught by the young Lucy.

Now that Aurora got a better look at her, she found that Lucy was adorable. She was smiling that darling grin of hers that could light up a dark room; she practically oozed innocence and pure intentions. Her short hair was tucked behind her ears but pieces kept falling over and into her face. Aurora smiled hesitantly at her and hoped that she would be appeased and leave her alone.

"Oh you must simply meet my brother Peter and he'll have to apologize. I'm Lucy by the way, Lucy Pevensie. Who are you?" She tugged on Aurora's arm gently and tried to guide her toward where her companions were and Aurora resisted gently.

"I'm Aurora James and I simply cannot meet your brother." This confession caused Lucy to pause and tilt her head to the side as if looking at Aurora at a different angle would explain why she couldn't go meet her brother.

"Why can't you?" She finally asked Aurora with her head still tilted. Aurora didn't answer immediately so she began to speak again. "He's a very nice person and he's very smart and he tells funny jokes."

"Oh I'm sure Peter is a wonderful person but I'm uh, tired and on my way to bed and I'm also sick." Aurora lied with very little remorse. What else could she tell her? "Sorry I have been forbid from speaking to you or your siblings because I could kill you all in a fiery blast if one of you should anger me"?

That wouldn't go over so well.

"Oh, well how about tomorrow? Peter has promised me we'll go on an adventure." Lucy asked Aurora excitedly. Aurora forced a smile.

"Perhaps if I am feeling better," She answered.

"Oh, where is your room? I share a room with my sister Susan and Peter shares with our brother Edmund." Lucy chattered on like there was nothing wrong with the world but Aurora could see it and feel it just under the surface. She was sad and didn't want to be here.

"Little one, I think it's time for you to go back to sleep." Aurora told her pushing her lightly in the direction of the guest rooms Mrs. Macready had set up.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" She asked pausing and looking to Aurora with hope filled eyes.

"Maybe," Aurora murmured with a small smile.

It was a lie.


	4. Rainy Days

The next day when Aurora was roused from her dream filled sleep it was from the pattering of the rain against her window. This caused a frown to crease her face; her first thought going to Lucy and the adventures her brother had promised to her. In these weather conditions having an adventure was completely out of the question. Well at least having an adventure around the acres of land surrounding the professor's house.

Hopefully Lucy's siblings would be able to entertain her throughout the day. Aurora knew from experience that there wasn't much to do cooped up inside like a caged songbird. That was the life of Aurora; contained to the wide open fields and the professor's home. She would probably never see the city where she had lived with her mother again.

Also Aurora was forbidden by the professor and Mrs. Macready to wander too far into the fields. She didn't understand why she was not allowed to wander through the tall grass; she wanted to be like the wind and bend the blades to her will. Then Aurora realized that in the summer the tall grass was dry and crunchy and easily flammable. Suddenly the request for her to stay close to the house where buckets of water may be fetched at any given moment made sense.

Now with the guests Aurora would surely be unable to venture outside where she felt the most free of any other place on the property. They were not to know of her presence; and hopefully Lucy would not mention her. Or perhaps her siblings would decide that she dreamed Aurora up. That was both bitter and sweet to Aurora; it solved her problem of being discovered but was also unfair to kind and innocent Lucy.

Aurora sat on a creaky old rocking chair facing the window of her bedroom. The sound of the rain was relaxing as was the gentle swaying of the chair. The desire to read was no match for her sudden lethargy. She was content to sit motionless and feel out the world's energy from her chair.

She was nearly dozing when she heard the thumping of feet and then a much softer pattering in the hall. Curiosity was a worthy adversary for laziness. Aurora half rose out of her chair when she heard someone attempt to twist the knob of her door. Her breath caught in her throat but nothing more happened after the one failed attempt at entrance.

Aurora let out a sigh after a moment. The professor and Mrs. Macready had keys to enter Aurora's room if they really needed her. Also they had the decency to knock first before entering. Perhaps one of the children had gotten lost on the way to the loo?

The house was suddenly silent; Aurora strained her ears and heard the faintest sound of what she assumed was either a radio or a voice belonging to someone in the house. Their monotone drawled for a few more moments until a loud noise interrupted and caused Aurora to jump and focus on that instead.

"It's alright, I'm back, I'm back," cried Lucy from the room next door. From Aurora's vast knowledge of the house all that room held was a decorative wardrobe under a sheet. She supposed that since it was covered Aurora was not meant to know about it so she pretended it didn't exist.

Although some nights when she couldn't sleep she felt as though it were calling out to her. There were some days when she felt alone and needed her mother. Aurora would just sit in the dusty room and feel a sense of comfort like that to which a weary traveller returns home for the first time in a long time. It's familiar but still completely strange in a vague sense.

There was the sound of thunderous footfalls approaching Aurora's door. She stood staring at the wood and imagined the three faceless children rushing forth to their youngest sibling. Their muffled conversation filtered into Aurora's bedroom. She tried to block out their words; eavesdropping was rude as Mrs. Macready and Moira had told her. A young lady should be proper and prim. That was more of Mrs. Macready than Moira. Moira had been satisfied if Aurora had remembered to use her manners at the dinner table.

Aurora had impeccable dinner table manners. Her mother had played a game with her where they pretended they were having dinner in a castle with royalty. It was fun to pretend to be a lady of the fairytale castle of Cair Paravel.

There was an urge for Aurora to share her special fairytale with the youngest Pevensie child. She was having such a hard time coping with the effects of the war. Perhaps the story would be a bit of cheer for her. A nice little pretend game that she could enjoy in the confines of the professor's none too child friendly home.

Everything was silent in the hall. Aurora contemplated her half-baked idea of sneaking around to find Lucy and share with her a story. The pros and cons were heavily weighted in her mind. Aurora was not one to disobey requests; a rebellious lady in the court could cause a multitude of mayhem by the simplest things. Even the small things could have big consequences.

Like losing one's temper could have dire consequences. Letting fear trump bravery and strength could lead to more fear and weakness. But then again she had been told by the lion in her dreams that she must have an open heart and love. He had told her that the key was love and not fear; not greed and not anger.

Her dreams were a little hard to understand and when she woke up they were a bit muddled in her memory. But she had a feeling that talking to Lucy wouldn't be too harmful despite her warnings. So she turned the lock and pulled open her door cautiously. She stuck her head out of the door and heard nothing and saw no one.

On the very tips of her toes Aurora moved about the hall; avoiding all squeaking floorboards. Not too far down the hall she heard the faint sounds of weeping and discovered Lucy in her room. Her sister was nowhere in sight and so she moved into the room walking normally and with proper posture.

She turned and shut the door softly behind her and then clicked the lock into place. Satisfied that their privacy was inevitable she turned to the still crying young child.

"Would you like to hear a story?" She asked making the young girl jump and turn to face her.

"Oh, hello Aurora, I thought you were Su." Lucy sniffled wiping at her eyes with her arm. Aurora took a tentative seat on the edge of the bed.

"Would you like to hear a story?" She asked again. Lucy nodded and smiled. She listened with rapt attention to the fairytale that Moira had told Aurora as a child. She was a very good audience; gasping at the right moments and sighing at romantic moments. She asked questions but only when it was appropriate too and not too frequently as to annoy Aurora.

"Oh but I've been there!" Lucy shouted when the story concluded. "I've been to Narnia and seen the lamppost and met Mr. Tumnus. It's real Aurora." Aurora smiled patiently at the imaginative girl.

"It's a story, Lucy. My mother told it to me all my life and I'm sure her mother told it to her as well. But it was fun; we'd pretend we were ladies of Cair Paravel."

"You don't believe me either." Lucy stated looking dejected.

"I believe that you believe. I've never been to Narnia but if you and my mother say it's real and you say you've been there than you must have. I'm just telling you that this was only a story. I am certain that none of this has any merit. I never said I didn't believe in Narnia; I've believe in it all my life."

"Oh, I do wish you would tell my brothers and sister that."

"I'm like Narnia. Not everyone should know about me." Aurora invented wildly, poking Lucy affectionately on the nose and standing.

"Oh don't go yet. Do you have any other stories about Narnia?" Lucy asked hopefully her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"I have to go. It will be time for supper soon. I am sorry to say that I don't have any other stories of Narnia. Perhaps I will write some for us." Aurora suggested with a warm smile at the young girl.

"Oh, yes please Aurora! I would appreciate it." Lucy gushed clapping her hands together. Aurora smiled once more and focused her hearing on the hall; it sounded empty. Quick as a cat she flipped the lock and squeezed out of the room and crept down the hall to her own room.

When she was safely alone in her room she let out a sigh. She had disobeyed requests and acted unladylike and the world hadn't burst into flames. Secretly Aurora hoped that tomorrow would be bright and sunny so that the Pevensie's would be out exploring. It would give her more time to think up stories about Narnia for Lucy.

Also it would most likely give Aurora free reign of the house and so she could stop feeling like a burglar all the time.


	5. The Macready

The next day Aurora woke up smiling. Her whole body was encased in a warm embrace; her happiness and comfort soon turned into blind panic. Her eyes snapped open and her rigid body relaxed; she wasn't heating up. The sun was shining brightly on her through the window which had been left open for a quick escape. It was quite the contrast from yesterday.

The time went unknown to her as she busied herself with becoming presentable. This involved taking her braids out and letting her hair breathe. Today it was browner than red which was a good sign. Her eyes were a darker blue and held no hint of a spark which was also good and she felt slightly chilled. All in all it looked as though today would be fairly worry free.

Aurora had few garments to choose from; she wore whatever Mrs. Macready bought her or sewed for her and that was it. Her choices were limited to pleated skirts, summer dresses or work dresses. All colors were dull browns save for the few greens and blues she was able to wear. Even so those colors were extremely faded from wear.

Today she settled for a brown pleated skirt with a proper blouse over top and long dark blue stockings. She put on her house shoes so that she wouldn't be slipping and falling everywhere and began her careful descent into the too quiet house.

She had barely walked three steps down the hall when she heard a terrible crash near the stairwell. Mrs. Macready and the professor were both elderly and there were quite a few artefacts that weighed an awful lot. If they had accidentally knocked one over, they might need assistance righting it. Or worse, what if they were trapped beneath it and in need of medical attention?

Aurora's long legs extended as she ran from one end of the house to the other. She traveled faster than wild fire and her chest burned with need for oxygen to feed her. The pale cream walls were a blur until she skid to an ungraceful stop and collided with a loud thud. Over her own footfalls she hadn't heard the Pevensie children approaching.

"Way to go Ed," Peter accused.

"Me? You bowled it!" Edmund retaliated.

"Aurora," Lucy breathed a wide albeit imperfect smile breaking across her colorless face. Aurora focused only on Lucy, afraid to glance at her elder siblings. Lucy gladly looked up at her two older brothers and her older sister with an even wider grin.

"I told you she was real."

Then they heard it, or her. Mrs. Macready was in a rage and thundering toward them. All worry, confusion and anger disappeared and all five children were united under one front: fear. No one wanted to come face to face with an angry Macready woman. Aurora especially could not be caught out of her bedroom and with the other children. She would end up locked in the basement, or worse.

"The Macready," they spoke in unison. It was a mad dash to anywhere but here, but each turn they took seemed to bring them closer to Mrs. Macready rather than further. Lucy ran ahead, knowing where to go. Aurora wanted to tell her to stop, she wanted to stop running because she felt her temperature rising.

All five of them piled into the vast room and Susan, Edmund and Peter seemed to stand in awe at the elaborately chiselled wardrobe. Mrs. Macready's angry voice floated up to them, her daunting and heavy footsteps instilling fear in each child in turn. Aurora would have predicted that it be Lucy that rushed forward to open the door, but Edmund surprised her.

"Come on," he urged his siblings. Lucy needed no more invitation. Aurora stood behind and watched as Peter stood torn between feeling ridiculous and wanting to avoid trouble. Susan on the other hand made her objections known.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Do you have a better idea?" Peter challenged and then the two eldest Pevensie children made their way to the wardrobe. Peter looked behind him and stared wide eyed at Aurora.

"Get in!"

Aurora swallowed but like Lucy needed no more invitation other than that. Peter pressed his hand into her back for a mere moment before retracting it with a gasp. Inside the wardrobe was a world of confusion. Aurora saw nothing but darkness and felt the heavy wool and fur of winter coats brushing against her and the lack of oxygen drove her to panting.

Accusations flew back and forth between the siblings while Aurora remained silent.

The ground seemed to disappear underneath her as she hit a raised platform. Her cry of shock was silent as she landed on something soft to brace her fall. Her relief was short lived as a body landed on her and she made a grunt of pain as an elbow connected to her rib. The soft landing began to squirm beneath her and she came to the realization that her eyes had indeed been closed the entire time.

When she opened them she was met with Susan's unhappy scowl. Snow framed her face where her hair wasn't fanned out. Aurora carefully wiggled the hands that had been pressed to her stomach and placed them on either side of Susan's head prepared to push herself up.

To her immediate horror, her hands sunk through the snow and steam rose from the surrounding area. She wasn't the only one to notice. Susan began to scream and the words came out bold and sharp against the silence of eternal winter. Larger, stronger hands than Susan's or Aurora's appeared and separated the two girls.

Aurora hadn't the slightest recollection of beginning to speak but the noise fell to her ears.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I don't know how to control it!"

Aurora wasn't necessarily speaking about what had just occurred. Her mentality was reverted back several years, to the fire and her mother dragging her by the hand.

"Aurora," Lucy's voice cut through the memory and Aurora opened her reddening eyes to find the Pevensie's standing quite a distance away. Each child was looking at her with a torn expression of amazement and fear. Her eyes trailed downward to follow their fixed gaze. The snow around Aurora had been reduced to steam for a three meter distance in a complete circle from the point where she stood.

"Oh Aslan," she muttered. Her eyes slowly traveled to her left, where the lantern from her story stood.

"We're in Narnia, aren't we?" The question from Aurora was directed only at Lucy. The young girl only had to grin for Aurora to know the answer.

"I told you it was real," Lucy nudged her elder brother with a knowing smirk.


End file.
